


Wild Child

by outlawjames13



Series: Wild Things [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-12 00:49:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5647825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlawjames13/pseuds/outlawjames13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Wild Thing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A very pregnant woman sits on the couch at the side of the stage, where her husband told her to stay, right where he can see her. He was nervous about having her stay home alone with it being so close to the due date, so he asked if it would be alright for her to come to his concert and just sit side stage. Then she wouldn't get jostled around and he could still keep an eye on her. 

However, he's obviously distracted, glancing over at his wife every three to five seconds at least, making sure she's alright. Each time she has the same reaction, a quick thumbs up and a smile, even though she's sitting through contraction after contraction.

Until a particularly bad one hits, and  - you know how you get a feeling, like you just know something is gonna happen, _right then_? - she's got one of those feelings. 

It's after the last song, so the band is saying their thank yous, and of course it's the only time that her husband isn't looking at her as often as he was before, of course. She takes deep breaths, trying to sit there until he gets done, but it's tough. And she thought cramps were bad. 

He finally looks over at her, and she points to her stomach. 

'Now?' he mouths. She nods, and his eyes get wide.

"Well, sorry to cut this short, but I'm gonna be a dad!" he says before running off the stage, ripping his earpiece off and tossing it to the guy standing there before moving over to his wife. 

"Are you alright? Is it coming _right now_ , or do we have time to -" 

"Hospital," she says, reaching for his arm to get up. "I ain't havin' yer kid on a couch." 

"You alright?" he asks for about the fiftieth time since they've gotten into the truck, glancing over at her. 

"Maybe," she replies, her hand over her swollen stomach, a sheen of sweat already forming on her forehead. 

"Breathe, you'll be okay. We're almost there." His voice shakes a little, both out of nerves and overwhelming excitement. He don't know whether to be worried about his wife or excited because their baby's finally coming or nervous because _their baby's coming_ , and they aren't at the hospital yet. 

"It hurts," she says quietly as the truck stops at a red light. The man knows she's trying to be strong and not let on to how much it actually hurts, but her small admittance tells him how bad it really is. He's watched her sit through contractions all day, saying nothing and keeping a smile on her face. He also knows she feels bad whenever she tells him it hurts, which in reality is a lot less than it probably happens, but that's what he's there for, sort of.

"Easy," he tells her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. "Almost there, two more turns." 

When they get to the hospital, they are thankful to find a parking spot that's close to the door, and they quickly make their way inside. 

"My wife is having a baby," the husband tells the receptionist at the desk. The older woman picks up the phone and says something that he doesn't hear. He kneels down in front of his wife as she sits in one of the chairs near the front desk.

"You good?" he asks. She nods. 

"Yer gonna stay with me, right?" she asks. He nods. 

"I'll be right there."

They sit there for a few seconds, just waiting, until she says, "I hope they get me some good drugs. This shit fuckin' _sucks_." Ordinarily the husband would make a joke about swearing in front of their child, but he lets it go this time because he has no clue how much pain his wife is actually in.

"Mrs. Tomlinson?" someone calls. The couple stands. 

"That's us," the wife says. 

"If you'll follow me," the doctor says, leading them down a long hallway. 

"Once this kid's out, we're havin' wheelchair races," the wife mutters, making her husband laugh. She's told him several times that that's what she's looking forward to most, now that she'll be stuck in the hospital for a little while. 

"Right in here please," the doctor says, oblivious to their plans. The couple follows him through the open doorway and into a small room, a bed in the corner and a few chairs along the wall. 

"If you'll put this gown on, ma'am," the doctor says, handing it to the wife. Then he walks out the door, saying that he'll be back in a minute. 

"I hate these damn things," she mutters as her husband helps her out of her clothes and into the paper gown. "Thank you."

"It's no problem. Are you still al-" the sound of something hitting the floor stops the man mid sentence. 

"Fuck," his wife says, doubling over. 

"What?" he asks. "Laura?" 

"It's comin'. Now," she says, her teeth gritted. Oh, God, the husband thinks, this is really happening. 

He runs to the door, practically dragging the doctor back in. 

"It's just - she's - " He stutters, not able to form a sentence.  The doctor presses a button on the wall, and almost immediately nurses rush through the door. 

"Her water's just broke, we need to get her to the delivery room." 

They lift the wife onto the bed, and her husband moves so that he's not in the way, but still right next to his wife, close enough to grab ahold of her hand as she reaches for him. 

Then they're out the door, practically running down the hallway like they do in the movies. They're rushed into a room, and several needles are jabbed into the woman's arm, giving her painkillers. 

"Alright, the medication should take effect soon," the doctor tells her. She nods silently, a stray tear running down her cheek. 

"Are you alright, love?" her husband asks. She nods, then shakes her head, then nods her head again. 

"I dunno. I think it's workin', but I ain't sure," she mutters. The man reaches over to run a hand over her hair, and she leans into the touch. 

After a couple minutes, she gasps. 

"It's movin'," she says, her eyes wide. 

"Okay, put your feet in the stirrups," the doctor says. Once her feet are through the straps hanging from the ceiling, he says, "on the count of three, push and count to ten, then stop and breathe. Can you do that?" She nods. "Alright, here we go. One, two, three!"

The woman squeezes her husband's hand, shutting her eyes tightly as she strains, pushing until the doctor yells, "ten!" and then falling back against the pillows.

"You alright?" the man asks his wife, brushing a clump of hair off of her sweaty forehead. She nods. 

"Alright, push like that every time you feel a contraction," the doctor instructs. The wife nods again, wiping her hand across her face. 

The process repeats itself over and over again countless times, each one ending with the woman looking a little more worn out than the last, until she looks up at her husband, her eyes red and puffy, and says, "I can't do no more." 

"Come on, sunshine.  You're nearly done," he encourages, leaning down to press his forehead onto hers. "You can do it, you've been doing so good." He knows she's tired, but he also knows she can't stop yet. "I'm right here, you can do it. Come on." 

She nods, then starts trying again, swearing through her teeth, saying some things he doesn't understand, but assumes they're not so nice. She never taught him how to swear in Cherokee. 

Suddenly there's an almost ear piercing shriek, and then the wife sighs, slumping back against the pillows, finally done.

The doctor looks up at the husband, a small bundle in his arms.

"Would you like to cut the cord?" 

The man looks down at his wife. 

"Go fer it," she says, letting go of his hand.

The husband steps over, doing as the doctor says, and a few moments later he's handed a tiny bundle of blankets, a small blue knit hat sticking out of the top. 

A boy.

"Lemme see 'im," the wife says quietly, reaching for her husband. He hands her the baby, and watches as she carefully pulls back the top part of the blanket.

"Hey," she coos once she sees the baby's face. "He's so little."

Their baby opens his eyes for the first time, looking curiously at his mother. The man's heart swells at the sight of his wife, holding his son. This is his family. His perfect little family. His vision blurs, and he blinks as he hears his wife talking again.

" 'e's got yer eyes, Lou," she says quietly. Then she looks up at her husband. "Hey, what's wrong?"

The man shakes his head, sniffling. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong, everything's perfect."

"Are you cryin'?" she asks. He starts to shake his head, then changes his mind and nods. "C'mere, ya big baby."

The husband leans in, and his wife wraps an arm around his shoulders as he snakes his arms around her back.

"Thank you," he whispers quietly, his happy tears falling into her hair. "Thank you so much."

The man feels a tiny hand on his arm, and turn his head to look at his son. 

"Daddy's jus' a big ol' sissy, ain't 'e?" the new mother jokes, wiping a tear off of her husband's cheek. The man smiles, then softly strokes the baby's face with his finger. 

"I feel like I'm gonna break him," he admits quietly. The baby grabs his finger, holding it in his tiny hand.

"Hey," the man says, smiling down at the baby. He looks up at his father with bright blue eyes, his father's eyes, and smiles, making little baby noises. 

"You want Daddy?" the wife asks the baby, glancing up at her husband. 

The baby makes more noises, smiling wider.

"Not even an hour old 'n yer a'ready 'is favorite," the wife laughs, holding the baby out to her husband.

"Hey," the man says softly as he cradles his son in his arms. The baby laughs, his tiny hands reaching up to his father's face. The man smiles, and leans in, holding his son closer to his face, and soon feels his baby's hand on his cheek. 

"Needs a name," the wife says, leaning her head on the man's shoulder. 

They try out names for a couple minutes, until the man says one that makes his wife pause. 

"Eugene William Tomlinson."


	2. Chapter 2

The first time I remember seeing my Dad cry, it was when the twins made him a song for his birthday, and got me to play my guitar as they sang it to him. We woke him up that day, and he'd been less than happy about it, until they began. Then his face had lit up, and by the time Jamie and Johnny were finished, with a very off key note, he was wiping his eyes and laughing as Mama rolled over, a soft smile on her face. She'd known about it, had helped the twins with figuring out the words while he was at work.

The second time, it was when my little brother said his first word. Of course it was 'Mama,' but that didn't seem to matter to Dad. He kept saying it back, smiling wider each time that Charlie said it. His smile didn't even falter when Charlie's chubby little hands knocked his bowl of cheerios off of his high chair and onto the floor. Mama had laughed at him when she walked into the room, telling him that finally there was a kid that favored her over him. I guess the rest of us had all preferred Dad.

The third time, we were in the gym at my brother's elementary choir concert. Will had just turned seven, and he had gotten a two line solo in the Christmas song that they sang. I can't remember what he sang, but I remember Dad wiping his eyes before we went to go find Will and go home after it was all over. Mama had smiled and kissed his cheek, saying that Will had gotten his talent from his father.

The fourth time, I was eighteen. I'd just walked off the stage in the gym of Turner Town High School, and as I walked back down the aisle, diploma in hand, I waved at my parents and the rest of my brothers. His eyes were shining, and his cheeks were wet as he smiled at me, shouting 'that's my boy!' Mama was crying too, taking as many pictures as she could, trying to make sure that we never forgot that day.

The fifth time, we were in church, sitting up in the front row, and I cried with him as he held my new baby sister in his arms. Mama had been there that day too. But not with us.

Mama's last pregnancy had been harder on her than the others, she was always achy and tired, and in the end it was too much for her. Dad felt awful about it for what seemed like the entire time she was pregnant, always helping her with even the littlest things, making sure she didn't strain too hard or hurt herself.

But when my sister came into the world, Mama had to leave. I watched her go into the delivery room, Dad right behind her, and Dad came back out alone.

A couple days later, Dad woke us all up early, got us dressed in our freshly pressed suits, and we solemnly drove down to the church.

All four of Dad's brothers were sitting with us that day, even though they'd had to fly from all over the world to be there. Dad didn't say much to them that day, but I could tell that he was thankful to have them there for him.

My Dad always said that Mama was his sunshine. I didn't see how much she affected him until she was gone. He was so happy whenever they were together.

She would bring us lunch whenever we were working out in the fields, but instead of stopping when she came out, Dad would always keep the tractor going for a little while, letting Mama climb up and sit in his lap as he drove over into the shade.

She'd always kiss his cheek and say 'mornin' sugar' when he came down for breakfast in the morning, usually earlier than us kids would. He'd help her set the table and get everything ready, and then they would go around and wake all five of us kids up together.

Whenever Dad came back from touring, because he was in a band once upon a few years ago, Mama would always bring all of us to the airport to meet him. I remember trying to find him, sitting on Mama's shoulders until I was too big, but she always spotted him before I did. He always looked grumpy, and I couldn't blame him. He'd usually been on the plane for at least five or six hours, and he's always said that he hated flying.

But every time he saw Mama, his face would light up, and suddenly it was like he couldn't see anyone else, pushing and shoving until he reached her. Then he'd throw his arms around her, shoving his face into her hair. He'd always said that she smelled like home to him.

She would lean her head on his shoulder whenever they were sitting together, and he would turn his face to kiss her hair.

He was her sugar, she was his sunshine.

But not anymore.  
  


"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," the preacher says, making a cross over the closed casket. Dad steps forward with my baby sister, tossing a handful of dirt into the large hole, then dropping a rose on top of the lid of the casket before stepping back. He turns to look at me, his eyes red and puffy, and gives me a watery half smile.

The ground in front of me swims as I take Will's hand, stepping forward with the twins and Charlie, each of us grabbing a handful of dirt to drop on top of Dad's before moving back to stand with him.

We stand there as more dirt is piled on top of Mama, even as everyone else leaves. We stay, just staring down at the ground where Mama now lays.

"Daddy?" Will finally asks.

"What, Will?"

"Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," Dad replies, his voice shaky as he hands my sister Lynn to Uncle Liam. "Why don't you head to the truck? I think Uncle Harry's waiting for us."

"Okay." Uncle Liam starts to walk away, the twins, Charlie, and Will following him as he goes. I stay, still frozen where I stand, staring at the pile of dirt. The marble headstone with Mama's name on it. The flowers that she'll never be able to smell again.

"It's ironic," Dad says, "she always said that she hated flowers. Not all flowers, just the fancy ones. She liked the wildflowers that grew out... out by the cabin."

I've only been out to that cabin a handful of times, all of them with grandpa Eugene before he died. He said that that cabin was one of Mama's favorite places. Every year on their anniversary, Mama and Dad would ride out there and spend the night. I have no clue what they did, but it was always a tradition. And they came back looking happier each time.

"We were supposed to go up there next Tuesday," Dad continues, sniffling a little. "Twenty one years."

I see him wipe his eyes, then look up at the sunny sky.

"Dad," I say, my voice cracking. I suddenly can't hold in the tears, and I feel his arms wrap around me, the scratchy fabric of his suit against my cheek as I sob into his shoulder.

"It's alright, little man," he says, using a nickname that I haven't heard in years. "We'll get through it."

He lets me keep crying. He doesn't say anything about how long it takes me to run out of tears, he just lets me cry, silently holding me, letting me know he's there.

When I've calmed down enough to stutter out a 'thank you,' he just pats my back and pulls back a little to look at me, holding me by the shoulders.

"We should get home. We've got some things to do," he says.


	3. Chapter 3

I spend the entire ride back home looking out the window, not wanting my brothers to see my red eyes. I can hear Lynn sort of crying, and Dad trying to get her to laugh.

Jamie and Johnny are sitting in the back, talking to Will about something. I can't really hear them because they're mumbling.

"Eugene?" I hear Charlie ask from his seat next to me. "Are you okay?"

I nod, still looking out the window. "Yeah."

"Okay," he says. He leans over, putting his head on my shoulder. "I'm hungry."

"We'll be home soon," Dad says from his spot in the front seat. "Just a few more minutes." His voice sounds strained, like he's been talking too much today.

Next to him, Uncle Liam is patiently driving down the road. He hasn't said much since we got into the truck.

When we get home, Dad's brothers are there, and while Uncle Niall messing up my hair usually makes me laugh, today it doesn't seem the same.

Everything seems different, like I'm not really here. It feels like I'm watching everything play out, but I'm not a participant. The twins keep fighting for Uncle Zayn's attention, Charlie keeps jumping on Uncle Liam's back - even though Dad has told him several times not to, but Uncle Liam says that he's gotten used to it - and Lynn won't stop crying. Dad can't leave her alone for a second.

I know I should try to be strong, to keep going like everything is alright, because it will be eventually, but I can't. I feel like a stranger in my own house, the place I grew up.

"Hey, you alright?" Uncle Harry asks as he sits next to me on the couch. I don't remember walking over here at all.

"I don't know," I tell him. "Nothing feels right."

He nods. "It'll be that way for a while," he says. "Then one day you wake up and things seem better."

"How long will that take?" I ask.

"Depends on the person," he answers. He pats my shoulder like he's always done, and smiles at me. "You're your mother's kid. You'll be fine."

"Eugene," I hear Dad call.

"Better go see what your old man wants," Uncle Harry says.

"You're almost the same age as he is," I shoot back over my shoulder. I can hear him laughing as I walk into the kitchen. "What?"

"Can you hold her for a minute?" Dad asks, passing Lynn to me. She fusses, but when she looks at me, she quiets down.

"Thanks," he says. "I'll be right back."

He walks out of the kitchen, and I hear him go up the stairs.

"Hey."

Lynn blinks.

It's weird. I've held all of my brothers like this, and I could just talk to them like it was nothing. But it's different with Lynn.

When I look at her, all I can see is her eyes. Brown, just like Mama's.

 

It's a few hours later when we all saddle up and head out to the north end of the property line. Dad leads Mama's old horse, Rebel, behind him as he leads us out toward the horizon. I've got Lynn with me, and she won't stop looking at me.

I think it's because I look enough like Dad, but not quite the same - I don't exactly have a beard yet, even though I've been working on one - that it confuses her.

It's quiet, even the twins aren't talking, something that rarely happens anymore. Even the birds seem to be staying quiet as we ride past them.

It's different, seeing Dad's brothers on horses. I know they've ridden before, that's how Mama and Dad met, but I never really thought about the rest of them. They must have been awkward at first, just like I was, but it's always a surprise to see them take to it so naturally when they climb onto a horse. I would've thought that being away from horses would have made it harder to get back into it again.

When we get to a circle of old trees that I've never seen before, Dad stops. When he climbs off of his horse, he hands the reins to Uncle Harry, then leads Rebel into the circle.

The old horse follows him, quiet as ever.

When they get to the center of the circle of trees, some of which have started to lean to one side over the years, looking like they could fall over at any second, Dad pulls the old horse to a stop, then slides the halter off.

"nasgiageyv unohelei ayv ulisgolvtanv nihi anagisdi," (She told me to let you go,) he says as he puts a hand on either side of the horse's face, pulling it up to look him in the eye. "ayv hnadvga nasginigesvna aduladi ulisgolvtanv _ulisgolvtanv_ anagisdi." (I do not want to let _her_ go.)

Nani was the first one to teach us Cherokee, but when she died, Mama took over, and sometimes Dad would help, but not very often. I always thought it was because he didn't know that much himself, but I guess I was wrong.

Dad takes a deep breath, then leans his forehead against Rebel's. He mutters something that I can't hear, then steps back, letting go. Rebel steps toward him, setting his head on Dad's shoulder for a moment before he turns, rearing up before galloping away.

"didayolihvdvgalenisgv Lomasi," (goodbye pretty flower) Dad says. "gvgeyu'i." (I love you.)

When he turns back to us, I can see the shine in his eyes, but no one says anything as we ride back.

When we get back, it's dark out, and Lynn is fast asleep. Most of us stumble into the house after we take care of the horses, going up to our rooms after saying goodnight to one another.

Dad's brothers set up the air mattresses in the living room, and by the time Dad comes in, they're all snoring loudly.

"You could have gone to bed," Dad says as I pass Lynn back to him. "Could've put her in her crib and all that."

"It's alright," I tell him as I follow him into his room.

"Dad?" Will asks.

"What?" Dad replies as he turns to put Lynn in her crib.

"I can't sleep," Will says.

"Me either," Charlie says as he walks in, rubbing his eye with his fist.

"I think this calls for a family cuddle," Dad says. He puts a smile on his face, then sets a hand on both of their shoulders, pushing them toward the big bed.

Somehow, both Jamie and Johnny heard him, because they come running in, pillows in their arms, and even though they're fifteen now and they should know better, they leap onto the bed.

"Boys, what have I told you about that?" Dad asks with a smile.

They both turn over, pretending to be asleep, and Charlie and Will climb under the blankets.

"Gene?" Dad asks. "There's still room for one more."

He's hopeful, I can see it in his eyes, but I'm nineteen, and I haven't cuddled with my brothers for at least three years. (That I'll admit to anyway.)

"Let me put my pajamas on," I tell him, and he grins.

It doesn't feel weird when I crawl in, even though Charlie's foot is up my ass and Jamie is snoring in my ear. It's comfortable. Familiar.

Maybe things will be alright after all.  


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, we all wake up when Lynn starts crying.

Dad's the first out of bed, almost running over to her crib to pick her up.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, as if she can answer him. He walks back over to the bed, laying back down where he was before, Lynn on his chest. "Is this better?"

Her little fist hits him in the nose.

"I'll take that as a no," he says. "I know you probably don't like all these boys. But they're your brothers, so you have to get used to them."

She fusses, but looks around at us. When she gets to me, she frowns, then looks back and forth between me and Dad.

"That's Eugene," Dad tells her. "He's almost twenty."

Lynn blinks at him, then hiccups. She looks at Charlie next.

Dad tells her each of our names, and we watch as she looks at us curiously. Charlie and Will wave at her, while the twins and I just stare back.

After a few minutes, she reaches for Jamie, who looks surprised.

"Do you want to hold her?" Dad asks.

"I guess?" Jamie answers, sitting up a little. "How do I do it?"

"Put your hand under her head, she can't hold it up by herself yet," Dad tells him as he passes Lynn over. "Like that."

Dad watches for a bit, until he's satisfied that Lynn isn't going to get squished, then gets back out of bed.

"I'm gonna go mix up a bottle for her," he says. "Don't do anything stupid."

He walks out of the room, and all of us crowd around Jamie.

"She looks like Mama," Will says.

"Of course she does," Johnny sasses. "She came out of- ew."

All of us collectively shudder at what he almost said. That's disgusting.

"But seriously," Charlie says. "she's got brown eyes. None of us have brown eyes."

"What about me?" Will asks. His eyes are darker than the rest of ours, not quite blue.

"You have weird eyes. They're more greenish," Jamie says. "They aren't like hers."

"I bet she's gonna be pretty," Johnny says as Lynn grabs his finger, holding it in her tiny hand.

"Of course she'll be pretty," I say. "Prettiest girl in Alabama."

Lynn grins at this, tugging on Johnny's finger as she giggles.

"I thought Emily was the prettiest girl in Alabama," Charlie says, poking me in the ribs.

"Shut up," I say, whacking his hand. "Lynn's gonna be prettier."

"Emily is pretty," Jamie says absently.

"She's too old for you," I tell him.

"But not for _you_ , right?" Johnny asks with a smirk.

I roll my eyes. Emily's the same age as me. She lives around the bend in the road, about a mile from the end of the driveway.

Lynn starts fussing, wanting more attention., and slaps Jamie's cheek.

"Well then," he says. "I don't like you either."

Lynn whines, like she's about to start crying.

"Give her here," I say.

"Why?"

"Cause she likes me."

"You're just saying that," Johnny says as Jamie hands Lynn to me. "Maybe not though," he amends when Lynn goes quiet, looking up at me.

"Hey," I say to her.

She slaps my nose with her hand, then pokes me in the eye.

"Maybe she doesn't like me," I admit. "I think I look enough like Dad that it confuses her."

"We look like Dad," Johnny argues.

"But your hair's lighter," Charlie says. "Gene looks the most like Dad. He just doesn't have a beard."

"I'm trying!" I complain. "Do you know how hard it is to grow a beard?"

"It's not too hard, actually," Dad says from the doorway. "It's shaving that's the hard part."

"Is that why you don't shave?" Will asks as he walks over.

Dad shrugs. "Your mum liked it. It made things easier for me."

"Did you do everything Mama liked?" Charlie asks.

Dad shakes his head as he takes Lynn, holding the bottle so she can drink.

"Not everything. Just some things," he answers.

"Your mum never liked tea," Uncle Harry says as he walks in.

"I tried to get her to try some, but she spit it out every time," Dad laughs.

"Cause tea is gross," I say, wrinkling my nose.

"He gets that from Laura," Dad tells Uncle Harry.

"I see that."

"Is anyone home?" a voice calls from downstairs, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"Emily!" Charlie yells, jumping off the bed and running out the door, Will right behind him.

There's laughing downstairs, and I feel Dad nudge me with his foot.

"Go say hi," he tells me.

"She's gonna end up coming up here," I argue, getting up anyway.

"Go down there," Dad laughs. "She'll want to see you."

I roll my eyes as I walk out the door.

"Eugene!" Emily grins once she spots me coming down the stairs. She somehow gets out of Charlie and Will's grip, and jogs over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck, making my heart skip a few beats. " 'M sorry about your mom," she mutters into my shoulder. "I'm always here if you want to talk."

"Thanks," I tells her gratefully, wrapping my arms around her.

"Emily!" I hear Dad say.

"Hi Mr. Tomlinson," she says as she steps back from me. "How are you?"

"I told you, call me Louis," Dad says for about the seventh time. "Mr. Tomlinson makes me feel old."

"You're older than me though," she replies, tilting her head to one side. "Is this Lynn?" she asks once he gets close enough for her to see the bundle he's carrying.

Dad nods. "Yep. Just finished breakfast."

"She's so cute!" Emily coos. Lynn opens her eyes, focusing on Emily. "Hi cutie!"

Lynn blinks, then smiles.

"Can I hold her?" Emily asks. Dad nods.

"Sure. Just be careful."

Emily gladly take Lynn, smiling down at her and moving to sit on the couch. I watch her, something inside my stomach kicking at the sight.

"Gene?" Dad asks. "You wanna help me make some pancakes?"

"Sure," I answer as Jamie and Johnny stumble down the stairs and over to Emily, hugging her before flopping onto the couch to watch her play with Lynn.


	5. Chapter 5

"I don't think any of us expected it," Uncle Kyle says as he pours me a cup of coffee.

I'm sitting on his couch, my feet on the coffee table in front of me.

I came here after Emily left, wanting to sort a few things out. I know I could've just asked Dad, but I figured he had his hands full at the house, so I didn't want to bother him.

"It's weird at home," I tell him. "Nothing feels right."

"It won't. You don't just get over someone with that big of a presence being gone overnight," he says. "I almost called her yesterday to see if ya'll wanted to come over for supper."

I nod. Uncle Kyle's always been close with Mama. They knew each other since high school.

It's quiet for a bit, both of us sipping our coffee and thinking.

"So, how's it comin' with Emily?" he asks once I set my empty mug down on the table.

I shrug. "It's not," I tell him. "I have no clue what to do."

"Just talk to her," he says.

"I do!"

"No, like, _talk_ to her. About what you feel," he says.

"How do I do that?" I ask.

"Not sure," he admits. "If I were you, I'd wing it."

I raise an eyebrow. Wing it?

He shrugs. "Good things happen when you wing it," he says. "Just don't wait till she's married with kids to tell her."

I have a feeling that there's more meaning behind what he's saying, but I don't ask about it.

"What if she doesn't-"

"The worst that can happen if you say something is that she says no," he tells me. "And trust me, that ain't even _half_ as bad as watching her fall for someone else."

We talk for a little while longer, then I say goodbye and head back home.

When I get there, it's quiet, and everyone is asleep on the couches and the air mattresses around them.

I walk over to the fridge to get a can of soda, and a piece of paper on the kitchen table catches my eye.

_Dear Mr. Tomlinson,_

_We are happy to inform you that a recent survey of your property has found it's value to be close to_

I don't bother reading the rest, already frustrated with whoever sent the letter.

There have been others, wanting to buy the ranch for some crazy amount of money. It started as just a few hundred acres, then the companies figured that they might as well offer to buy the whole thing, because that's more money, and that would be something that most people would want.

Mama was never interested in the money, no matter how much Dad argued for it.

_"Laura, people could build houses there, there would be more places for people to live," Dad argues._

_"An' where would th' animals go?" Mama retorts. Dad doesn't answer. "There ain't nowhere else fer 'em ta go. I ain't sellin' nothin'!"_

_"Laura, think of what we could do with the money," Dad says. "The barn could get a new roof, we could send at least Eugene to college, if not the twins as well."_

_"We can do that anyway," Mama replies. "There's enough left, we can use that iff'n we haveta."_

_"You know that's not -"_

_"Th' market's goin' back up," Mama insists. "There'll be enough."_

I always hated when they argued, not because they yelled at each other, because they didn't, but because I could hear the differences between them. Dad didn't ever quite understand what Mama meant when she said she wouldn't sell any of it.

They came from different backgrounds, and that made a difference in how they saw things. Dad saw the offer as a business opportunity, a way to make money that we could use for something else, while Mama saw it as a grab for what was hers, and she held on, fought tooth and nail to keep it.

Eventually the offers stopped coming altogether - or Mama got better at throwing the letters out before Dad saw them. But the arguments stopped, and that made everyone happier.

So why are the letters coming again?

"Hey Gene," Dad says as he walks over to the sink. He puts a plate down on the counter.

"What's this?" I ask.

"What's what?" he asks, walking over and looking at the letter in my hands. "Oh, that."

He puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "What about it?"

"Why is it here?" I ask.

"Why wouldn't it be?" he asks. "They sent it to us."

"Are you considering it?"

"Considering what?"

"Selling."

He's quiet, and I look up from where my hands have started to shake.

"Dad?"

"We could use the money," he says.

I feel my jaw drop.

"What?" I ask.

"I haven't said for sure," Dad assures me, but it doesn't help.

"Dad, you can't just sell everything," I tell him, my voice slowly getting louder. "What about the horses?"

"Keep your voice down," he says calmly. "I just got Lynn to sleep." He sighs. "I don't know what to do about it."

I set my jaw, drop the letter on the table, then walk up the stairs to my room.

He can't sell. It's not possible. This is just as much his home as it is for the rest of us.

We've grown up here, it's all we know. Where else would we go? England?

We to go there for Christmases every year, except this last one. Mama was already having a tough time with Lynn, so we didn't end up going.

It's always weird when we're there. They try to make it seem like we're part of the family, and we are, but we don't fit in like we do here. They sound different, they eat some weird things, and all the goddamn _tea_. It's all they drink there.

Of course Dad slides right in, like he never left, and that makes sense. He grew up there.

Does he want to go back?


	6. Chapter 6

About a week later, Lynn crying is what wakes me up one morning.

At first I just roll back over, thinking that Dad is right there with her, he'll take care of her.

But it doesn't stop.

So I get up, walking down the hall to Dad's room, and - oh.

He is out. Like, passed out on the bed. No wonder he didn't wake up.

Liberty is standing next to Lynn's crib, whining as he tries to comfort her.

"Thanks bud," I say as I walk over. I scratch the big dog behind the ears, then reach in and pick up Lynn. "Hey, what's wrong?" I ask, as if she can tell me.

She quiets down a little once she's in my arms, but she's still fussy, so I walk out of Dad's room, not wanting to wake him up.

If he's slept through Lynn crying, he must need the sleep.

I walk down to the living room, then sit in the rocking chair.

"What are you doing?" Charlie asks as he walks out of his room, rubbing his eye.

"She wouldn't stop crying," I tell him as he sits on the floor in front of me. "Dad didn't wake up."

He looks up at me, his eyes wide.

"Not like that," I correct myself. "He's still asleep, he just didn't wake up when she started crying. I think he's really tired from everything."

He's not dead. I don't think we could handle that.

"So what are you doing?" Charlie asks.

"I'm trying to get her to be quiet," I tell him.

"Why don't you sing? That's what Dad does," he suggests.

"I can't sing, so that's not happening," I tell him as Lynn starts to squirm.

Dad usually sings to her when she's like this, but I didn't quite get that talent. I don't get it either. Mama and Dad could sing, so I should be guaranteed to be good at it, right?

Not so much.

"I'll get Will. He can sing." Charlie scrambles to his feet, running up the stairs.

I open my mouth to tell him that he should let Will sleep, because it can't be past seven thirty yet, but he's already back down the stairs when I start talking.

"He was already up," Charlie explains. "We've been up since six."

I don't ask questions, mostly because they're always up early. I should have figured that today wouldn't be any different.

Lynn is still fussing, but she's quieted down some since I brought her downstairs.

By the time Dad wakes up and walks down the stairs, all of the rest of us have woken up, and we're crashed on the couches, watching TV.

"Thank you," he says as he sits next to me, taking Lynn when I hold her out. "Sorry, I had a late night."

"It's alright Dad," I tell him. If he needs the sleep, he should get it. "We had it covered."

Dad's brothers went home yesterday, so he must have stayed up late to make sure they got home alright. He does that, always has.

After we eat breakfast, we all head out to the stables, except Dad. He stays inside with Lynn.

There's a small herd in the East pasture that we have to move farther south, and a batch of calves to brand. Those are the main things that we have to do today.

During the summer, my brothers and I are the ones who do most of the work on the ranch. We actually do most of the work year round, but there's more during the summer.

Will is still a little small to be doing some stuff, like branding, but he's still out there with us, because that's how Mama did it.

Mama also started the nightly card game at the kitchen table. When we finished supper, she would always clear the table and get the decks out, and we would play a few hands of whatever game we all agreed on.

So when Dad grabs the cards off of their shelf above his chair, the rest of us don't hesitate to take our plates to the sink.

"What are we playing tonight, boys?" he asks as he starts to shuffle, passing us all some cards as we sit down.

"Go Fish!" Charlie suggests excitedly.

"We played that last time," Jamie groans.

"But it's fun," Will says.

"But I wanna play hand and foot," Johnny says.

"How about a round of each?" Dad suggests. "Then everybody's happy."

We all sort of shrug, agreeing. This is how it normally goes.

When we finally finish the last round, everyone is laughing, because while Charlie is really good at Go Fish, he's really bad at hand and foot, and the way he reacts when he actually wins is priceless.

We even got Lynn in on the game, letting her sit on our laps and point at cards.

"Alright, time for bed then," Dad says, standing from his chair with Lynn. "It's getting late."

We all groan, but don't admit that we're pretty tired.

After saying our goodnights, we all split off into our own rooms, and I change into my pajamas before going to brush my teeth.

When I get back to my room, my phone goes off. It's Emily.

'you still up?'

I type a 'yeah' back, and flop down onto the mattress.

'what's up?'

'not much. just lost to my 12 year old brother'

'sounds rough. what game?'

We talk for a while, and before I know it, the clock on my nightstand says that it's one in the morning.

'your turn' she says.

'superman or batman?'

'obviously batman. he's way better'

'I would have said superman'

'well, I didn't ask you'

':/'

'why superman?' she asks.

'because he's superman'

He would have the guts to tell you how he feels instead of hiding like a coward.

'really? that's batman's line'

'I can't be no superman, but for you I'll be superhuman'

I type out the line of one of Dad's songs, intending to delete it and never mention it _ever_ , but of course my thumb drags across the screen just right, and then it's _sending_.

What was the thing? Airplane mode! Airplane mode! Put the phone on -

And it sent. Perfect.

I debate typing out another message, but I don't know what to say, so I lay there, biting my nails as I wait for her to reply.

She doesn't.


	7. Chapter 7

"We're almost out of feed," Jamie says when he and I come back in from doing morning chores.

"Then go get more please," Dad says. He tosses me the keys to the truck as he balances Lynn on his hip. She's getting bigger pretty fast. "Be careful."

"I will be," I tell him, grabbing my hat off of it's hook by the door.

"Wait for me!" Charlie says excitedly, running down the stairs and sliding on the floor, reaching for his boots.

"Charlie," I groan.

I was hoping to have the drive there and back alone, to think. Emily still hasn't texted back, and I'm starting to get nervous, because what if I said the wrong thing, and she thinks I'm a doofus?

"Me too!" Will says. He's already got his boots on, so he just grabs his hat off of it's hook.

There's a big line of hooks next to the door, mostly because there's a lot of us, but also because we all have at least two hats - one nice one and one that we wear everyday.

We pile into the truck, after a long game of rock paper scissors over who gets shotgun - which Charlie ended up winning - and then we're driving down the road.

It's really far away from everything, the ranch. I like it, but at the same time I feel like we're a part of less of what goes on in town, since we're so far away.

When we get to the feed store, the bell above the door jingles when we walk in. Charlie and Will immediately run toward the corner where the toys are, and I have to almost drag them out, because we aren't here for toys, we're here to get feed and go back home.

After we finally get the feed - just four bags, because that's all we can carry - we head to the counter at the front.

"Emily!" Charlie cheers when he sees her. She greets him with a bright smile, asking how he is and what he's been up to.

I forgot she works Thursdays. This might have been a bad idea.

"Sorry I didn't answer you," she tells me as she rings up the feed, "I fell asleep, and then I forgot my phone at home when I came in today."

"It's fine," I say, relaxing. Not a doofus this time.

"But did you really quote a One Direction song at me?" she asks with a grin. "I thought you didn't like your Dad's music that much."

I shrug. "I thought it fit. And it's alright, I just don't like the stuff they started out with as much."

She nods.

"It did kind of fit," she agrees. "That'll be eighteen twenty three."

I slide Dad's card through the machine, putting the numbers in when it asks for them, thinking the whole time.

I should ask her if she wants to go get ice cream or something. It's hot out today, that's a good idea, right?

Or maybe we could go to that one diner down the street. That would be fun.

Emily hands me the receipt, smiling at me.

I open my mouth, ready to ask her, and then -

"Gene! We gotta go!" Charlie says. "Dad said we'd make cookies when we got home!"

"I'll see you later then," I tell Emily.

"Yeah," she says, still smiling. "I might have to come see if your cookies are any good."

I feel my face flush, then nod. "Yeah."

"Eugene!"

I haul the two bags of feed over my shoulder, then start off after my brothers.

Once we're at the truck, we throw the bags of feed in the back, then climb into the cab.

"You two should be more polite," I tell them as I start to drive out of the parking lot.

"Whaddya mean, Gene?" Will asks.

"I was talking, you aren't supposed to interrupt people when they're talking," I say.

"He's just mad cause he wanted to talk to Emily," Charlie giggles.

"That's not the point," I groan. Actually, it is, but they don't need to know that.

"Were you gonna ask her if she wanted to be your girlfriend?" Will asks.

I stay quiet.

"You were! You love her!"

"Shut up," I say, shoving him over a little bit.

"Where were you gonna take her?" Charlie asks.

"Why would I take her anywhere?" I ask.

"That's what you do, Gene. Haven't you listened to Dad when he talks about when him and Mama were dating? They went everywhere!" Will says.

"Not everywhere," I correct.

"They went a lot of places though," Charlie says. "Where would you take Emily?"

"I was thinking I'd start with ice cream," I tell them. "Then see where it goes from there."

"Oooh! I like ice cream!" Will says. "That's a good idea!"

"But would you pay for it if she got the biggest sundae in the whole world?" Charlie asks.

"That's how a date works, isn't it?" I ask. "The guy's supposed to pay for it?"

"What if it cost a bazillion dollars, though?" Will asks.

"They don't make sundaes that big," I laugh.

The rest of the ride back home is spent debating what sort of ice cream I'd get for her if she told me to surprise her - Charlie thinks that vanilla with sprinkles would be the best idea, while Will says that a hot fudge sundae would be better.

When we get back home, I back the truck up to the barn, then we unload the feed before going inside.

"Hey boys," Dad says when we climb up the front porch steps. "How did it go?"

"Eugene was gonna ask Emily to be his girlfriend, but then we interrupted and he got mad," Charlie says. I elbow him, and he punches my side back.

"Really?" Dad asks, smiling. "That's rude, you know, interrupting people."

"That's what Gene said!" Will groans. "We just wanted cookies..."

"Well go on inside," Dad says. "There's some in the oven, but there's cookie dough on the counter."

They immediately run inside, leaving the door wide open.

"Don't eat yourselves sick!" Dad calls after them.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, Dad says that after lunch, we should all go fishing.

Of course we don't say no, all eager to be the one to catch the biggest fish and have the bragging rights that come with it.

So after we finish the dishes, all of us head out to the stables, Dad carrying Lynn, and the rest of us carrying our tackle boxes. We saddle our horses, and then ride out to the creek.

Once we get there, Dad sets Lynn down on the grass, then sits down next to her while the rest of us bait our hooks and cast them into the water.

After a while, Dad starts talking about coming out here with Mama.

"The first time we came here, she threw a fish at me," he says with a smile.

"How did she throw a fish?" Charlie asks from his spot next to Dad.

"She went in there and pulled it out," Dad says, nodding toward the water. "Then I wasn't paying attention and she threw it at me."

"She didn't use a fishing pole?" Will asks.

The twins and I roll our eyes. You don't have to use a hook to catch a fish.

Mama showed us how to catch a fish with our bare hands, even though we never actually caught one ourselves. Charlie and Will weren't quite old enough to remember it.

She tried to show Dad too, but he couldn't quite get it either. He got the closest out of all of us though - he had his hands around a fish before it swam away.

"No, she went in and grabbed it out the water," Dad explains. "Do you wanna try it?"

"Yeah! Can I?" Will asks.

"Take your boots and socks off, roll your jeans up," Dad says. He looks over at me. "Can you make sure she doesn't go anywhere?" he asks, nodding toward Lynn, who's asleep on her blanket. Liberty is laying next to her, looking at her curiously.

I nod, scooting a little closer to my sister, and Dad starts to pull his boots off, rolling up the bottom of his jeans.

"You have to go slow," Dad tells Will as they both step into the shallow water a little ways from where the rest of us are. "It's not instant, you have to wait."

They stand in the water, looking for fish for about ten minutes before Will spots one, and then Dad walks him through it, telling him to move slowly, and Will gets pretty close to grabbing ahold of the fish before he sneezes, and it swims away.

"That was pretty good for your first try," Dad tells him.

"I'm gonna get the next one," Will says determinedly, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks down at the water, already looking for the next fish.

Dad smiles, then looks around, stopping when he looks at the horizon off to the North.

His smile fades, and I know he's thinking about Mama.

_We were supposed to go out there next Tuesday._

"Hey Dad," Jamie calls. Dad turns, breaking out of his thoughts. "What kind of stuff did you do when you got bored on the buses?"

We've asked him about touring, because he was in a huge band at one point. It wasn't really that long ago. I was a freshman in high school when the band broke up - well, they didn't really break up, because Dad and his brothers still hang out and stuff, but they stopped touring and said that they were going to slow way down on writing new songs.

Dad smiles, then walks over to the edge of the water, sitting on the bank with his feet in the water.

"It was mostly pranks when we got bored," he says.

"Who'd you prank?" Charlie asks.

Dad laughs. "It was mostly Liam. He made it so easy."

He goes on to tell us how he'd steal Uncle Liam's socks, or switch his shoes so that they were the wrong size, and lots of other things.

When it's around three or so in the afternoon, we pack up our stuff and head back to the house.

I see a car when we ride up to the stables, and it's not anyone I know.

"Dad?"

He looks over, then hands me his horse's reins.

"I'll take care of it," he says. "Can you put him in his stall?"

I nod, and he takes Lynn over with him as he walks over to the car.

A man in a suit steps out, and shakes Dad's hand with a smile.

"Gene, come on," Charlie says. "We've got chores to do."

I follow him, taking both my horse and Dad's to their stalls and pulling their tack off before bringing them some hay and filling their water buckets.

By the time we finish feeding all the horses and head inside, it's starting to get dark out.

When we go inside, everyone else heads upstairs to their rooms, because that's what we usually do when people that we don't know are here talking to Dad.

I go into the kitchen, looking in the fridge for something to eat.

"If you want more information, I'd be happy to come back another time," the man says. "Unless you've made your decision already."

He must be from the company that wants to buy the ranch.

I keep looking in the fridge, like I can't find what I want.

"No, I haven't decided yet," Dad says. "Could I have a few weeks to think about it?"

What is there to think about? Just tell him no. Don't sell anything.

"That would be alright," the man says. "You have my number when you decide."

Dad doesn't say anything, but I'm pretty sure he's nodding.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Tomlinson. I'll see myself out."

"Have a good night," Dad replies.

I hear the man walk away, out the door, but don't move from my spot in the fridge.

He's thinking about selling. To me, that's almost the same as saying that he's going to sell.

I close the fridge, my appetite gone, and see Dad sitting at the kitchen table, rocking Lynn back and forth.

I turn and walk out the door, grabbing my keys off their hook under my hat. I make my way angrily over to my truck, then climb in, starting the engine.

I'm going to Emily's.


	9. Chapter 9

I drive around the bend in the road, then turn into Emily's driveway, still angry.

How could Dad even think of selling the ranch? I thought it was his home too, not just ours. I know that he didn't grow up there, but that's where he met Mama, shouldn't it hold some sort of emotional thing for him?

As I walk up to the door, I don't notice the other truck parked next to mine.

I knock on the door, and almost immediately it opens.

But it's not Emily.

"Eugene?"

"Jackson?"

"Gene!" Emily says excitedly as she appears behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"I was gonna talk to you," I say after a bit of a pause. "But it you're busy... I can wait."

"No, that's alright," she says, "Jackson was just leaving."

There's something in her tone that makes me question what they were doing, but I don't ask questions as Jackson tells her goodbye and walks out the door.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asks after she shuts the door.

I look down at my feet.

"Could we um... make a blanket fort?" I ask.

"Sure."

It's something we've done since we were little, but as we grew older, it became a thing that we did when one of us needed help with something, or was going through something and wanted help.

After we've pulled the blankets off of Emily's bed and hung them from her bookshelf and desk, we throw all of her pillows into the fort, then crawl in.

"So what is it?" Emily asks, a bit softer this time, as she hugs her pillow pet, a purple unicorn.

I won it last year at the county fair, and then I gave it to her for her birthday.

"Dad wants to sell the ranch," I say quietly.

"What?" she asks. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, but there was a letter, and then this guy showed up today, and-"

"Whoah, start from the beginning, Gene," she says, scooting closer to me until our knees are touching as we sit cross legged across from each other.

I tell her what's been going on, how I saw the letter on the kitchen table, how Dad hasn't said anything about it to the rest of us, and what he said to the man in the suit.

When I'm done, she sits there for a moment, frowning.

"That doesn't sound like your Dad," she says after thinking it over.

"I know. Everything is just so weird." I put my head in my hands. "I don't know what to do."

"How about this," she starts, pulling my hands away from my face. "You can stay here for the night, and worry about it in the morning."

I smile a little. "That would be alright."

We watch a few movies, and then crawl back into the blanket fort.

"I thought your Dad was gonna kick me out when he saw me," I laugh as I pull a blanket over myself.

"He wouldn't," Emily says with a smile. "He likes you better than he likes me."

She's quiet for a moment, then she asks,

"are you going to that party at Jackson's?"

I roll onto my side to look at her.

"I don't know," I say. I actually hadn't heard of it until now. "Are you going?"

"I was gonna," she says. "But I want someone to go with me."

I shrug. "I'll go if you go. When is it?"

"Next Saturday," she tells me.

We talk for a little longer, then go to sleep.

When I get home the next morning, I go straight to the barn, because it's about time to feed the horses, and then I can just slide back inside with the rest of my brothers.

They don't say anything, but the twins notice me first. Probably because I grab a bucket from Jamie to get water for my horse, Captain.

Charlie walks over to me when we're heading inside, and nudges my arm.

"Dad's worried," he says quietly. "He doesn't know where you went."

I nod.

"Thanks," I tell him. At least I've gotten some kind of warning.

A lecture might be coming.

I walk into the house the same way that I do all the time, hanging my hat on it's hook before kicking my boots off and sliding them into their spot. I follow my brothers as we make our way up to our rooms, something we do pretty much every day.

"Eugene," I hear Dad call, just after I pass the door to his room.

I freeze, then sigh. Here it comes.

"What?" I ask as I back up, looking in at where he's standing by the window.

"Where were you?" he asks as he turns around, walking over to where I'm standing.

Dad's just barely taller than I am, which almost makes me feel small now as he looks slightly down at me.

He's got dark circles under his eyes, which means he probably didn't sleep too well last night.

"At Emily's," I tell him.

He frowns. "At Emily's," he repeats. "And you didn't think to tell me where you were going?"

"I didn't think it would be an issue," I answer, leaning on the doorframe. "It seems like people aren't telling people a lot of things lately."

He takes a deep breath, then lets it out in a huff.

"What do you mean?" he asks, his voice sounding controlled.

"When were you gonna tell us that you were thinking about selling?"

Dad visibly deflates, sighing.

"Is _that_ what this is about?" he asks tiredly.

I nod.

He sighs again, looking out the window.

"Go get your brothers, we'll take care of this now," he says determinedly.

I nod, still a little mad, then walk out the door, going to each of my brother's rooms and knocking on their doors.

"Dad wants us downstairs," I tell them.

When we're all around the kitchen table, Dad folds his hands.

"So, there's something that I need to tell you boys," he says. "And girl," he adds with a nod to Lynn, who's sitting in her high chair at the table next to him.

"There's been a company that's been surveying the ranch, and they asked if I - if _we_ \- want to sell it," he says.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asks. "Why do people want to buy our land?"

"It's worth a lot of money," Dad says. "And it could be used for something else besides as a ranch. Just like any other land."

"How much is it worth?" Johnny asks.

"They said two million, eight hundred and six thousand, three hundred forty seven," Dad answers, reading off a paper that's in front of him.

"That's a lot of money," Charlie says in awe.

"That could buy a lot of ice cream," Will adds.

"That's not exactly what we would use all of the money for," Dad says with a small smile. "But we could buy ice cream."

"We can buy ice cream now," I cut in.

"That's true," Dad agrees, nodding. "We can buy ice cream now."

"So why are you telling us about it?" Charlie asks.

"I have to tell the company what our decision is," Dad says. "So I thought we could take a vote."

"That sounds like a good idea," Will says excitedly.

"If we decide to sell, then we have to move, and we'll live somewhere else," Dad says.

"I don't want to live somewhere else," Jamie says. "This is home."

"Alright, that's one for not selling," Dad says, making a mark on the back of the piece of paper in front of him. "Anyone else?"

"I wanna stay here," Charlie says.

"Two." Another mark on the paper.

Jamie and Will both say that they don't want to leave at the same time, and Dad makes two more marks on the paper before he looks up at me.

"Gene?" he asks.

"I don't want to go anywhere," I tell him. "You know that."

He nods, then draws a fifth line through the others.

"And what about you?" he asks, turning to Lynn.

My sister smiles when she has Dad's attention, and reaches for him with her chubby arms.

Dad picks her up, setting her on his lap, then points to either side of the paper, asking.

"do you want to stay here? Or move somewhere else?"

Lynn frowns, then slaps her hand down on top of where all the marks are.

"Well," Dad says. "Looks like we're staying."


	10. Chapter 10

We all wake up the next morning cuddled up in the big bed in Dad's room. Lynn is laying on top of Dad as he looks at his phone.

The day starts off slow, most of us just rolling out of bed one by one and wandering downstairs for breakfast.

"So, Dad?" I ask after the rest of my brothers have run outside to start on the morning chores.

"What?" he asks from his spot at the sink, washing the dishes.

"I um... wanted to ask you about something..." I say, trailing off at the end.

"Like what?" he asks.

"Like, a girl."

He stops, turning to look at me as he reaches for the towel to dry his hands off.

"What girl?"

I look at my feet.

"Emily."

"Oh, Emily. The one you've liked since second grade," he says. "What about her?"

"Dad," I groan.

"I'm just teasing," he laughs. "Have you tried talking to her?"

I groan again, putting my head down on the counter.

"Why does everyone say that?"

"Because that's the simplest way to get anywhere," he says.

"Is that what you did with Mom?"

He pauses. "Not exactly. But that's not the point."

"How did you do it?" I ask.

Dad rolls his eyes. "I'll tell you, but go do your chores first. We have hay to bale today."

I roll my eyes, but go outside anyway.

Eventually Dad ends up outside with the rest of us, carrying Lynn with him.

"Are you gonna take her up on the tractor with you?" Will asks.

Dad shakes his head. "No, Emily's coming soon to watch her while we bale hay."

My heart skips a beat, and Dad grins at me.

"Go get it hooked up, I'll be out as soon as Emily gets here," he says.

By the time the twins finish arguing over who's going to drive the tractor to hook it up to the wagon, Dad's already back out, this time without Lynn.

"So what did you do?" I ask as soon as we're on the wagon.

Dad sighs. "Well, I didn't just talk to her," he admits. "I made her mad, and she ignored me for two weeks."

Oh. I wasn't expecting that.

"And then I had a nightmare, and she was there when I woke up, and then we were sort of... friends?... I guess? For a while."

"Then what?"

"Well, then something kind of just changed. It wasn't 'just friends' for me anymore." He sort of laughs. "Harry says I used to talk about her all the time, even in my sleep."

That's a little weird. I try not to talk about Emily a lot, but I know that I do talk about her quite a bit.

"Then she started acting kind of weird, but it didn't seem that weird to me."

"What kind of weird?" I ask.

"She always wanted to talk to me, she was really cuddly, and... I don't know, it was just different from before."

Emily hasn't done any of that. She's always wanted to talk to me, and she's kind of always been cuddly.

"And then she went and kissed Zayn," Dad continues.

"Wait, what?" Mom had a thing with Uncle Zayn?

"I guess _he_ kissed _her_ , but it was still a kiss," Dad corrects himself. "He says he only did it so I'd admit that I liked her."

"Did it work?"

Dad nods. "Yeah, it worked. After I calmed down - I swear, I was ready to punch him - I felt a lot better about the whole thing. I just couldn't get up the nerve to tell Laura."

"So what did you do?" I ask.

"The same thing you're doing. Not telling her and hoping that it'll work out in the end."

"So it does work," I point out.

"That's not what I wanted you to get from this," he laughs. "It was hard, and I thought it wasn't gonna end well for a little while. There was one night, I thought I screwed the whole thing up, and I'd never get her to talk to me again."

"What happened?"

"Well, we were sitting on the steps, and we were talking, like usual, but it was after we found out that we had earned enough money to leave, so everyone was all sad, and Laura kept asking if I'd remember her - which was a fear of hers that I didn't really understand then, and I still don't - and then I kissed her, and she said she loved me, but me, being me, I was too shocked to say anything back, and by the time I found my voice, she was already up the stairs and locked up in her room."

That doesn't sound like the happy love story I always pictured my parents having.

"That night was rough," Dad tells me. "It was hard to sleep, and I ended up on the floor in front of her door the next morning."

His voice is quiet now, like it's hard for him to talk about.

"She didn't talk to me at all that day, and I thought I'd lost her."

He smiles sadly. "You know the rest," he says with a shrug.

I nod. I've heard the story from at least four different points of view - all of Dad's brothers have told us the story at least twice, and my aunts just love to tell it - Mama sang a song, and then afterward they both told each other how they felt.

They've always told us that part. I haven't heard what happened the night before that though. It changes the way I see it. They weren't perfect, and both of them messed up, but they worked it out.

"So," Dad continues, catching my attention, "talk to her. Don't make her cry. That's not fun for anyone. Even if it works out in the end." He nods resolutely.

"That must have been a wild summer," I say.

Dad nods. "Would be good as a storyline for a book," he says.

I nod. "Could make a lot of money off of it."

"But do you get what I'm saying?" he asks.

I nod. "I get it. Talk to her."


	11. Chapter 11

A week has gone by, and I haven't seen Emily since I was at her house. She left before I got back into the house that day. I was disappointed, but at the same time, I was relieved. Because I have no clue what I'm going to say to her when I see her again.

We've texted a few times since then, but I feel like that's not the right way to tell her something like this. It's something that has to be said in person, not through a text.

But it's been a week, and Jackson's party is tonight. I told Dad about it, and he was alright with me going, just as long as I didn't come home and wake everyone up.

He also told me to let him know if I was going to stay at someone else's house for the night.

There is one problem though.

I can't figure out what to wear.

I've literally torn everything out of my closet in an attempt to find something, but nothing seems right.

"Hey don't you have to leave soo- What did you do to your room?" Dad asks as he walks in.

"I don't know what to wear," I groan, flopping down on my bed, my face in my pillow.

Dad sighs, and then I hear him moving around my room.

"Wear this," he says, and I look up at him.

He's holding a pair of jeans that I'm pretty sure I threw under my desk, and a red plaid shirt that I haven't worn since graduation.

"Thanks Dad," I tell him as I take the clothes from him. He just nods, then walks back out, going down the hall.

When I walk down the stairs a few minutes later, Dad's waiting at the kitchen table for me.

"Sit," he says when I walk over.

I pull out a chair, then sit. It's quiet in the house. Everyone else is in bed besides us.

"Make sure you stay safe," he says. "Please don't do anything stupid."

"I know Dad," I tell him.

"Watch how much you drink - don't give me that look, I know you were planning on drinking," he says. "You are so much like your mum," he adds with a smile.

Then he launches into what _has_ to be a prepared speech about safe sex - I almost expect him to pull up a powerpoint or something - and by the time he finishes, I'm ready to crawl out of my skin and call it a night.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he says as I walk out the door. "Have fun!"

I roll my eyes, but wave at him as I pull out of the driveway.

I drive over to Emily's and wait for her to come outside. She said specifically not to make a lot of noise, because she'd be sneaking out.

We've both snuck around to hang out every once in a while. It was usually Emily, because she went through a few years where she was grounded nearly every other week, but I've had to climb out of my window a few times.

When she walks out, I don't hear her until she opens the door, and it startles me.

After she finishes laughing, she climbs in, and then we head down the road.

Jackson lives closer to town than either of us, about twenty minutes closer, so the drive is a bit longer.

More time for my stomach to twist itself into knots.

I should tell Emily, but I'm not sure how. I can think of literally everything I want to say when I'm supposed to be asleep, but when I have the chance, my mind goes blank.

Before I can say anything, we're at Jackson's, and then I'm parking the truck and we're climbing out.

I walk around the front, to where Emily is, and I have to hold my jaw up to keep it from dropping to the ground.

She's got her hair down, something that she almost never does. Her legs are covered in jeans that look like they're painted on, and her shirt is a pink plaid, tied at the ends under her ribs.

This is going to be a good night.

"Gene?" Emily asks. "Are you coming?"

I nod. I'll be coming for sure later.

I shake my head as I follow Emily to the door. Stop it, that's no way to think right now.

After about an hour, which I've spent talking and laughing with Emily, she says she's going to get us something else to drink.

I nod, staying where I am on the couch. A few of the guys who were on the football team are here, telling about their college experiences, which oddly enough don't include partying.

"I went to this one, and it wasn't anything like these," one of them says. "It made me miss home."

There's some teasing, and then they go back to talking about their football games.

They did alright, I suppose. Almost made it to the state championship. But we're a small school, and they got put up against the biggest school in the district for the qualifying game, and it wasn't very good. At least six of them were injured by the end of the game, and one left the field in an ambulance.

I listen, but not very attentively. They aren't really talking directly to me anyway. It makes it easier for me to get up and leave when I see a pink shirt being tugged through the crowd.

Emily.

I push my way through the people, apologizing when I accidentally knock someone over, until I get to where Jackson is pulling Emily away down the hall.

"Emily?" I call, just in case she's willingly going with him. If she is, then I won't interfere, but when she looks around for me, the look on her face is enough to tell me what I need to know.

"Eugene!" she says, a relieved smile spreading over her face. "Jackson was just leaving."

"You were coming with me," Jackson says, tugging on her arm.

"No, I wasn't," Emily says.

"Yeah. You were."

"Leave her alone," I tell him.

Twenty minutes later, Emily and I are in the bathroom, me leaning against the counter while Emily cleans up my face.

"You didn't have to do that," she says for about the fifth time.

"He was being a jerk," I answer.

"Yeah, but you didn't have to get hurt."

"Hey, if you think I've got it bad, you should see the other guy," I try to joke.

"I did see the other guy, Gene," Emily laughs. "Hold still."

I let her rub stuff on my face, and bandage a few cuts on my knuckles, and then she's moving away, putting the things back where she found them.

"I think I've had enough of this party," she says once she's finished.

"Me too."

We head out the door, going over to my truck and climbing in.

I drive her home, the radio playing quietly.

"Thanks for coming with me," she says when I pull up in front of her door. "It was fun for a while."

I smile.

She opens her door, and I'm expecting her to get out and go inside.

So I'm not expecting it when she leans over, pressing her lips to my cheek.

"Thank you... for the whole Jackson thing too," she mutters.

"Don't worry about it," I stutter, "anytime."

She smiles.

"Night, Gene."

Then she's gone, and I'm left with a racing heart and a confused head.  


	12. Chapter 12

I go to bed that night with the stupidest grin on my face, and when I wake up the next morning, it's still there. I have no idea what Emily meant by that kiss, but it's got me on cloud nine.

Dad notices, and I see him grinning as he hands Lynn to me so he can go get my brothers up for breakfast.

"What's wrong with Gene?" Charlie asks when he comes down the stairs, tugging his left sock on at the same time.

"Yeah, you never smile that much. It looks creepy," Jamie adds.

"Nothing's wrong," I say. Nothing is wrong. Everything is going perfect today.

"What did you do?" Will asks as he sits next to me.

I don't answer, handing Lynn back to Dad as he walks in, and then we all sit down to eat.

Breakfast seems happier today. Everything seems happier today.

Even doing chores doesn't seem as irritating as it does normally.

After lunch, a black car rolls up the driveway, and a man in a suit gets out.

Dad rides over, they talk for a few minutes, and then the man leaves, looking a bit frustrated.

"Who was that?" Charlie asks Dad when he rides back over to where we're sorting calves.

"The man from the company that wants to buy the ranch," Dad answers.

"What did he want?" Will questions.

"He wanted to know if we were going to sell or not."

"What did you tell him?" I ask.

"I told him to stop coming out here, because we aren't ever going to leave," Dad says with a smile.

I don't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

"I think we should go out for supper," Dad says as we walk back into the house that evening.

"Can we get ice cream?" Will asks.

"If you eat normal supper food first," Dad tells him.

We all get cleaned up, and put on clean clothes, and then we pile into the truck.

Dad drives to the diner by the stockyards, and Aunt Ann takes us to the corner booth. It's the only one that we all fit in, so it's sort of become our booth.

"You still have that creepy smile," Charlie says when he slides in next to me.

"It's not creepy," Dad says. "He's just happy."

"Like I was that one time when we got ice cream?" Will asks.

"Yeah, like that," Dad says.

I look around, and see the familiar wallpaper that hasn't changed since the last time we were here, which was at least a month ago. It hasn't changed at all that I can remember. It's always been blue with white stripes.

I stop looking around when I see Emily in one of the booths near the counter.

Why is she here?

I feel someone kick me under the table, and when I look over, Dad grins.

He nods toward Emily, then mouths, 'I'll cover for you.'

I smile, even though it's a little weird that Dad's playing wingman for me, and slide out of the booth.

I walk around the corner, like I'm going to the bathroom, and then walk past where Emily's sitting, stopping when she looks over at me.

"Eugene!" she greets.

"Hey," I reply.

"This is the Eugene I was talking about," she says, turning to look at the person next to her, who I hadn't noticed before. "Gene, this is Andrew."

He leans forward, giving me a small wave as he says hello.

I nod, keeping the smile on my face even though it's threatening to fall off.

Who is this guy? Why's he with Emily? Is he her boyfriend? Was the kiss just a friendly thing yesterday? She told him about me?

"What are you doing here?" Emily asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"We're out for supper," I tell her, nodding toward the corner booth where the rest of my family is sitting.

"Oh," she says. "What's the occasion?"

"Dad's not selling," I say with a grin.

"He isn't? That's great!" she beams. "I told you he wouldn't."

"Yeah, you did," I admit, shoving my shaky hands into my pockets. "Why're you here?"

"Andrew's visiting from Texas," she says.

Texas. She went there last summer to visit family. He doesn't really _look_ like her though. Maybe she met him while she was there?

I nod.

"Well, I should get back before they figure out I'm gone," I say.

"Okay," Emily says, and I swear I see her smile drop just a little, but I'm not going to get my hopes up. I don't think she's interested in me. I'm probably interrupting her date or whatever.

I wave at Andrew, then turn and walk back to the booth.

I slide in, and Dad looks over at me expectantly. I nod with a smile, but judging by the look on his face I don't think I was very convincing.

When we get home, it's dark out, so we head to the barn to feed the animals, and then get around for bed.

Well, my brothers do. I decide to put my pajamas on and sit on the porch.

I haven't smoked for a while, mostly because Mama always caught me, but I figure this is a good time for it. I need something to distract me from thinking about Emily.

I hear the screen door open and close, but I don't look over, instead taking another pull of smoke.

I expect Dad to yell at me and say that I should quit, but he doesn't.

He sits down next to me on the bench and holds out his hand.

I sigh, then hand over the pack. But instead of putting the whole thing in his pocket, he shakes one out and hands the rest back.

"You got a light?" he asks. I hand him my lighter, still slightly in shock that he isn't scolding me for smoking in the first place.

It's quiet for a long time.

I thought Dad quit a while ago, when he met Mama, but judging by the way his hands hold the cigarette steady as he lights it, and the way his eyes close when he takes the first pull, it's become a regular thing for him again.

"So how did it go?" Dad asks when we're both on our second cigarette.

"I don't know," I answer. "She was there with a guy, and... I don't know."

"Did you tell her yet?" he asks.

I shake my head.

Dad nods.

I look over at him, and for the first time I really see how everything is taking a toll on him.

He looks permanently tired, which could be because of Lynn, but I haven't heard her in the middle of the night for a while. There's a few more grays scattered in his hair, even though he doesn't seem old enough for that to happen.

He must feel me looking, because he turns to me.

"What?"

"Are you okay Dad?" I ask.

He opens his mouth, like he's going to say 'of course,' like he always does, but then he stops himself, looking down at his feet.

"I'll get there," he says after a long pause. "It's been tough lately, with... everything that's happened."

He takes a deep breath, clenching his fist.

"But Laura would have wanted me to keep going, so that's what I'm doing," he says, his voice cracking when he says Mama's name.

It's quiet for a moment, then Dad stands, putting out his cigarette.

"Should get to bed," he says."It's getting late."


	13. Chapter 13

When I come downstairs for breakfast the next morning, Dad's at the table with Lynn. She's still in her high chair, though there's an empty jar of baby food on the table in front of her, and Dad's making funny face at her, trying to get her to laugh.

Lynn seems to be immune to his attempts though, because she's sitting with a frown on her face and her little arms crossed.

I lean on the doorway of the kitchen, watching.

"Come on, you laughed at this yesterday," Dad groans.

Lynn huffs, then slaps her hand down on the little table in front of her.

Dad groans again, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Well, what does _that_ mean?" he asks.

Lynn makes a small noise, and crosses her arms again.

I have no clue where she learned that from or how she can do it.

Dad huffs, crossing his arms before making a face similar to hers, exaggerating his frown into a pout, and furrowing his eyebrows.

Lynn slaps her hand down on her table again, this time with a smile on her face.

"Oh, you like when I'm grumpy?" Dad asks. He frowns again.

Lynn giggles, clapping her small hands.

Dad keeps going, until Lynn is shrieking with laughter, and then he picks her up, holding her above his head.

"Did you do that with all of us?" I ask, stepping into the kitchen.

Dad looks over at me, a bright smile on his face.

"Most of you preferred your mum," he says, "had to make you smile somehow."

I grin as I walk over to the fridge. It did seem like most of us had liked Mama a little better.

The others wander downstairs pretty soon after, and we all eat the pancakes and waffles that Dad's made for us.

After we do the morning chores, my brothers and I ride out to the far pasture, moving the cattle to a closer area so they have more grass to eat.

When we come in for lunch, it's almost two in the afternoon, and Dad's made fajitas for us to eat.

Once all the plates are washed, the others head up to their rooms for a little while, because we still have some stuff to do outside, but it's just a little too hot out to get it done now.

I plop down on the couch, phone in hand, debating texting Emily.

I'm saved from the trouble when she walks in the front door.

I smile, but it quickly goes away.

"What's wrong?"


	14. Chapter 14

"What's wrong?" I ask, getting up and walking over to her.

Emily shakes her head, then wraps her arms around me.

I'm confused, but I hug her anyway.

Dad walks out of the kitchen, but stops when he sees Emily and I.

'What happened?' he mouths.

I shrug. I'm sure I look lost, because Dad nods toward the couch, then takes Lynn upstairs.

"Do you want to sit down?" I ask. Emily nods, and we sort of shuffle over to the couch, and pretty much fall down onto it.

"I'm sorry, I just... I didn't know where else to go," she says, hiccuping.

"It's alright," I tell her. "That's what friends are for."

It's quiet for a long time, and then I ask,

"What happened?"

She sniffles, and then answers.

"Let's build a blanket fort first."

I nod, and we go upstairs to my room, tearing the sheets and pillows off of my bed and making a fort out of them before crawling inside.

She climbs into my lap, and then starts talking.

I'm not going to repeat what she said, mostly because the though of it makes me so angry that I could kill someone, but by the time she's done, she's crying again, and I'm struggling to keep myself calm and calm her down at the same time.

She falls asleep after about an hour of rocking her back and forth, and once I'm sure she's out for a while, I untangle myself from her and go downstairs for something to drink.

I'm also planning on bringing something back up for her.

"What happened?" Dad asks when he sees me.

I shake my head, setting my jaw.

"Jackson."

Dad nods.

"Is she alright?"

I nod.

"Yeah. She's just shook up pretty bad," I answer. "She's asleep right now."

"I'll try to keep your brothers out of there for a while," Dad says. "Just in case."

"Thanks."  


	15. Chapter 15

When I walk back into my room, Emily is still asleep, and I set the glass of water I brought for her on my desk before crawling back into the blanket fort.

"Gene?" she asks, slowly blinking her eyes open.

"Right here," I answer, pushing a clump of hair out of her face.

"Okay."

She moves closer, putting her head in my lap, and pulls a blanket over herself, up to her chin.

"Do you remember the time when we put glue in Johnny's shoes?" she asks.

"Because we thought they were Jamie's? Yeah."

"That was fun."

I smile.

"Yeah, it was."

"Or when you thought you could jump into the creek -"

" - if I climbed the tree next to it?" I laugh.

She giggles. "I felt bad when you hit the fence on the way down. But it was funny."

"It was, after the cut healed."

We keep going back and forth, bringing up some of the things we've done before.

Through the whole conversation, I can't stop smiling. I'm not sure if it's because I'm remembering the fun I've had with her, or because she's right here with me, laughing along with me as we talk.

Probably both.

I catch glimpses of a strange look in her eyes every once in awhile, but as soon as I see it, she blinks and it's gone.

My heart skips a beat every time she looks at me, and she's doing it so often that I'm pretty sure I'll have to go to the hospital if we stay like this much longer.

Emily starts yawning after about twenty or so minutes, and soon she's blinking quickly to stay awake.

"You can sleep if you want," I tell her.

She shakes her head.

"Slept too much already," she mutters.

She blinks up at me, and I feel lightheaded.

Is now a good time to tell her that I think -

"Knock, knock," comes a voice from the doorway. "Supper is ready."

I crawl out of the fort, and see Charlie standing at the door.

"Dad said Emily's welcome to come eat with us if she wants," he tells me.

I turn to look back at Emily, and she's getting up and crawling over.

"I'm hungry," she says quietly.

I smile, then turn back to Charlie.

"We're coming."


	16. Epilogue

I wait for Emily to crawl out of the blanket fort behind me, and then we make our way downstairs.

"Emily!"

Nearly all of my brothers run over to her, and then she's attacked with hugs.

"Boys, what did I tell you?" Dad says, giving Emily an apologetic look.

"It's alright, they're fine," she says with a smile.

When they finally let her go, Will takes her hand and pulls her over to the table.

"You can sit by Gene," he says. "Cause he's your favorite."

"Where did you get that idea?" Emily asks with a giggle.

"Dad said so," Charlie pipes up.

"I did not," Dad argues. "I told them that if they were irritating, then _they_ wouldn't be your favorite, I said absolutely nothing about Eugene."

"He is my favorite though," Emily says. I feel my face get red as I sit down next to her.

"Dang it," Charlie says. "I thought it was me."

Emily laughs, and I smile.

We eat supper and talk, and I think I understand what Uncle Harry meant when he said one day it would seem like everything is a little better.

It seems better today.

 

A few years later...

"And then we went for a ride over the ridge, and she said yes when I asked her," I say. "It was the best day of my life."

I don't expect a reply. I'm talking to a headstone.

I've been coming here every once in awhile to talk to Mama, and it's helped me a lot.

I feel like there's someone else there that sort of understands, and it's almost like I can hear her voice sometimes when I'm here.

I've brought Emily out here a few times, three times as my girlfriend and once today as my fiance.

There have been a few times where I've gotten scared that she'd leave me, especially after our first fight. But I've found that she's just as invested in this as I am, and just as unwilling to let go. It just feels right.

Everything feels right, like it's all how it's supposed to be.


End file.
